Mission Impossible: The Mafia Of Santa Barbara
by The Storyteller's Song
Summary: When Shawn receives a mysterious letter about a shady job opportunity, he tries to handle the obvious problem himself. What follows is his worst nightmare: the targeting of his friends and family in an effort to break him down, and pull him onto the opposite side of the law.
1. Prologue: The Mysterious Letter

**And here is my second story based on the show about the two friends who work(ed) together from their amateur detective agency, stopping crime, nailing perps, and playing with death once a week (for 8 years). (And if I owned it, would I be writing my stories on this website?) The story takes place soon after _Shawn Takes A Shot In The Dark _[S4E9]. Also, although you may think from the title that it is a crossover between _Psych/Mission Impossible_, that is not the case (no pun intended). (Warning: Possible references to existing episodes, especially from Season 4, so therefore possible spoilers.)**

**Mission Impossible: The Mafia Of Santa Barbara **

** Prologue, Santa Barbara 2009:**

_The call came in the middle of the night. The Chief of Police was awoken in the middle of a sound sleep by her cell phone ringing loudly. She opened her eyes groggily, then turned toward her nightstand and patted around until she found the phone. Her husband stirred to her left, as she fumblingly opened the phone and put it to her ear: "Hello, Chief Vick speaking."_

_"Chief!" Head Detective Carlton Lassiter answered, sounding wired, much too wired to her liking at 4:00 in the morning. "We got a break in the case."_

_"Really?" Karen's voice sounded scratchy and tired to herself. She hoped Lassiter didn't pick it up. _

_"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Of course he would notice. After all, he _was_ the Head Detective. _

_"Yes, but don't worry, it's fine. What did you find?"_

_Lassiter's voice paused for a moment, seemingly for effect. Finally, he spoke. "A name finally popped. You may want to come down here..."_

**The Next Morning, At Approximately 10:00am, Adjacent To The Waterfront, The Psych Private Detective Agency:**

Shawn Henry Spencer was bored.

And that is, for this fellow, an extremely dangerous state to be in.

Funny how, if you substituted the middle initial _H_ for an _O_, you would get what always seemed to show up whenever he and his best friend and business partner, took on a case:

A distress signal.

So here's the pattern that usually was created:

His best friend and business partner, Burton Guster, (or the short form, Gus), is usually at one of two places: either at his real job, hawking and selling pharmaceuticals, or at the Psych Office, and bored, too.

A call comes, either from the office phone, or more likely from Shawn's cell.

Shawn answers.

It is the Chief. (And of course, I mean the Chief of Police, not the Chief of the Seminole Indian tribe [no offense].)

The Chief has a difficult case for them, and she wants them down at the station, pronto.

(Another clear-up: The "station" means the Police Station, not the bus station, or the train station. Also, "pronto" means "immediately", "instantly", or "as soon as humanly possible" not "after Jamba Juice" or "Chinese food" stops.)

Also, this turn of events means, at least to Shawn, that the Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, or Lassie, for short, is not up to his game.

And that is sweet.

It means that:

Psych has a case to solve.

Shawn is earning money so that it isn't solely on Gus' plate to do the same, and,

Adventure to be had.

For there is always adventure. It may be small, it may be big, but it is always there.

And that is where the word "dangerous" at least to Gus, is placed.

_And_ when he usually says no.

And when Shawn convinces him, finally.

So they go to the station via the route that takes them past some restaurant or fast-food place. When they arrive through the SBPD door, they are ushered into the Chief's office, where they and Detective Lassie and his partner, Juliet O'Hara, are briefed about the case. Shawn then gets a "vibe" about something he "saw" or "sensed" that usually breaks the case wide open. They all then go check on Shawn's "vibe", which launches them into the adventure of the case. Back and forth they go until they finally apprehend the perp(s), Shawn delivers the breakdown, and the criminal(s) are arrested. Then Shawn and Gus collect their check, and the case is over.

That's what happens with a "normal" case.

This was _not_ a "normal" case.

So, anyway, Shawn (and Gus, he too was there), were sitting at their respective desks, and playing at their computers, or just sitting and being bored. Shawn was tossing crumpled newspaper balls through the miniature basketball hoop that hung over the trash. Gus was simultaneously playing computer games and watching _The Goonies_ on Hulu. Shawn threw in the last paper ball.

"So, Gus, what'd you wanna do?" he asked his buddy. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting super sick of waiting for a call to come in from a client. What'd you think of ringing up the Chief?"

Gus, however, was completely absorbed in his movie and didn't hear him.

Shawn promptly spoke louder: "Gus! Hellooo! Wake up, buddy, and smell the daisies!"

Gus still didn't hear.

Shawn then jumped up from his seat and ran the short way over to Gus's desk. He planted his face close to Gus's ear and yelled: "Wakey! Wakey!"

Gus instantly started and leapt from his chair. "Dude! What was that for?!"

"I was trying to get your attention, but you were too absorbed in watching Sean Astin make an idiot of himself to notice."

"Are you kidding me? Mickey's character is the only smart one in the entire movie!"

"No, it isn't. Mickey is-You know what? I am _not_ doing this with you right now."

"Coward."

"Baby!"

Now Gus was really wired. "Oh, you really wanna do this, huh? Huh?" He balled his hands into fists and made some false hitting moves toward Shawn.

"Oh, you're so _on._" Shawn, in turn, balled his own hands into fists, and made a karate chop in the air in Gus's direction.

"Oh, come on, baby, you missed me when I was standing less than a foot away from you. You can do better than that." He made a bring-it-on gesture.

But before they really had time to engage in a full-blown brawl, they were interrupted by the office phone ringing. There was a full second where they each remained frozen. It rang a second time. Then, all at once, they both raced and dove for the phone sitting on Shawn's desk. There was a scramble which lasted for about half a minute, then Shawn came up with the phone raised triumphantly in his hand. "Got it!" he shouted triumphantly. Gus straightened up, straightened his clothes, and glared at him. Shawn smiled evilly at him, and put the phone to his ear. "Hello, Psych Private Detective Agency, Shawn Spencer speaking."

He listened for a moment. "Chief! We were just talking about you!" He listened again. "No, no, it wasn't anything like _that_," he reassured her. "Yeah, yeah, we'll be right there!" He returned the phone to its cradle, and then turned to Gus. "That was the Chief, we have a case!"

"Yeah!" Gus whooped. "Finally, no more boredom!"

"C'mon, then, let's go!" Shawn yelled. He raced over to Gus's desk, and grabbed the keys to Gus's blue Echo. Then he turned right and made a beeline for the door.

"Shawn! Get back here with my car keys!" Gus yelled after him. "Wait up!"

**Same Day, At Around 11:30am, Santa Barbara Police Department:**

Shawn and Gus pulled into the parking lot of the SBPD. They had been bickering the whole way about whether or not Sean Astin's character of Mickey in _The Goonies _was worthwhile.

The sun was beating down, almost at its zenith, when they parked the car and stepped out. They were still arguing as they walked up the steps to the front door. As Shawn opened the glass door, he suddenly got the feeling that someone was watching him. He turned in the doorway, motioning Gus to go ahead of him, and scanned the parking lot.

After about two minutes, he spied a strange car sitting in the far corner of the parking lot to his left. It was a silver Mercedes-Benz and it was parked far away from the others. There seemed to be no one inside, though Shawn could've sworn he saw someone move in the front seat. Shawn squinted as hard as he could in the bright sunlight, willing his eyes to see what he couldn't at first glance.

Nothing.

Shawn stared for as long as he dared, hoping beyond hope that no one had seen him or was watching him as it felt like they were. He then eye-scanned the car and the ground around it, looking for anything else out of the ordinary. There seemed to be nothing worth reporting-

_Aha!_ Just then, a flash of the tip of a white sneaker bright in the light of the sun caught his eye. He stared harder. Sure enough, a figure emerged in his line of vision through the clear windshield. The figure appeared to have dark hair and a thick, short beard. It was all Shawn could do not to get excited. He glanced at the car a second more, before turning back toward the doors, and slipping inside.

**In The Chief's Office:**

Shawn arrived at the doorway of Chief Vick's office. He saw that Lassie and Jules were standing before the Chief's desk, being briefed about something, and that Gus was already seated on one of the two chairs in front of the desk. He walked in.

Chief Vick's gaze moved over to him. "Well, hello Mr. Spencer, it's good to see you so bright and early," she said to him, slightly sarcastic. "Please, have a seat." Shawn halted in front of the desk, but didn't sit. His eyes dropped to the papers in front of the Chief, and he noticed the upside-down mug shot of a man, maybe 30 to 40-something in age, wearing a black-and-white plaid shirt. He had dark hair and a full beard. The name read, "Perry Johnson". He put a finger to his head.

"I'm seeing someone!" he cried out. The Chief jumped slightly and stared at him reprovingly. The other three turned their heads to look at him. Ignoring them, he squeezed his eyes shut as if he were concentrating very hard, and began to wave his left arm about wildly. "It's-it's-all kind of fuzzy, but I seem to see a mustached walrus!-no-Sherlock!-no-" He paused dramatically. "A man! A _wanted_ man! He has dark hair and a beard! And _he's in the parking lot!" _He dropped suddenly onto the back of the chair in front of him, nearly pulling it over onto the floor. He lay on it, half-way upside-down, panting.

The Chief stared at him for one breathless moment before replying, "Well, Mr. Spencer, we were just discussing the latest case in which our suspect matches your description."

"Whew!" Shawn breathed, as though he were out of breath.

But the last sentence that Shawn had uttered had suddenly dawned on Vick, and she narrowed her eyes at the psychic. "What did you mean when you said that our suspect was in the parking lot?"

"I sensed-heck, I just _saw_ him outside! He's in a silver Mercedes-Benz!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn saw Lassiter already rolling his eyes at Shawn's bold statement, but the Chief had already stepped her foot on the pedal. "Lassiter," she began, "why don't you and O'Hara go check the parking lot to see if the person Mr. Spencer saw is still there."

Lassiter opened his mouth in protest, "But Chief-"

"I'm not going to tread lightly on this one," Vick replied, in all seriousness. "There's too much at stake with a case this big to take a chance like this too lightly."

Lassiter's mouth opened again, but Juliet was quicker. "Yes, Chief, we'll be happy to go check it out." She cast a sideways glare at Lassiter, telling him silently to shut up. He reluctantly clamped his mouth shut. They then turned and exited the Chief's office, Shawn trailing behind. Gus saw them leaving, so he too got up and followed.

**Outside The SBPD, At Approximately 11:35am:**

Lassiter opened the front door, holding it open for Juliet, but letting it go almost in Shawn's face, as it swung closed. "Hey, man! That's not fair!" Shawn protested, swerving backward out of the way just in time. Unfortunately, Gus was just behind him, causing Shawn to back into him. Gus let out a cry, and fell backwards, Shawn on top of him. Shawn instantly rolled off Gus and scrambled to his feet.

"Dude!" shouted Gus from the floor. "What was that for?!"

"Sorry, man, Lassie was being mean, and not holding the door open for me like he did for Jules," Shawn explained. "I thought you were supposed to hold it open for the person behind you."

"That's ladies, Shawn," Gus answered. "I guess that makes you a girl."

"Does not."

"Does, too."

"Does not!"

"Does-"

"_Spencer! Get out here!" _Lassiter yelled from the top step.

Gus immediately got to his feet, and stood, and he and Shawn made their way outside. Lassie and Jules were standing on the top of the steps of the police station, staring out at the near empty parking lot. "Spencer! What are we supposed to be looking at?" Lassie barked.

"Relax, Lassie," Shawn replied coolly. "It's that car right over there."

Lassiter and Juliet gazed across the parking lot, searching hard. Nothing. "What car, where?" There were only three or four cruisers parked, besides maybe three civilian vehicles, including the Blueberry. The silver Mercedes-Benz was no where to be seen.

"That's odd." Shawn tried not to take it too seriously. "I could've sworn I saw it just two, maybe five, minutes ago."

They scanned the lot again. Still nothing. A hot breeze stirred the air.

"Shawn? Are you sure you saw what you said you did?" Juliet was now gazing at him in concern.

He glanced over to her. "Yeah, Jules, I wouldn't make up something like this just for attention, now would I?" He tried to smile at her in a carefree way, but it failed to reach his eyes. She gave him a look that said, _Seriously_? Gus was mirroring the same look. "Oh, come _on!_" he shouted. "I'm not _that_ bad, am I?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Gus smirked. Shawn glared back at his friend. "Seriously? You don't believe me?"

Juliet eyed him sheepishly. Gus continued to smirk. "No body, no crime," he replied smugly. "Or, in _your_ case, no car, no suspect."

He had to jump out of the way as Shawn attempted to slug him in the arm. "Haha, missed me _again_!" he said. "That makes it two strikes in, what, an hour? I thought you got over the yips!"

Shawn was glaring murder at him, when Lassiter called their distracted attention back to the task at hand. "So, Spencer, it appears to be that your suspect in your "vision" is non-existent. Therefore, I think we can all concur that this has been a complete waste of all our time." He flashed his usual Lassiter-has-no-emotions smile at the other three, and opened the door again. "O'Hara?"

Juliet gave Shawn a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Shawn," she tried. "But like Gus said, no car, no suspect." She then turned and followed her partner back inside. Shawn tsked at their retreating backs. The door shut softly behind them.

Shawn stared at the closed door for about a minute, then turned to Gus. He was still smirking. Shawn slugged him in the arm. This time he hit home. Gus let out a girlish squeal. "Hey, no fair!"

This time, it was Shawn who stood there, looking smug. "Served you right."

Gus scoffed. "Hardly. Especially when it was you who bowled me over just now. You even managed to get the phone at the office."

Shawn kept on grinning.

Gus stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He raised and lowered his eyebrows in a "I've-got-you" gesture. "You know I'm right."

Gus snorted. "_And_ I know that you're gonna make an idiot of yourself _and_ me."

Shawn playfully punched Gus in the shoulder. "And I _did_ see that suspect."

Gus just smiled.

**Later In The Afternoon, At The Psych Office, 2:30pm:**

Shawn sat at his desk, pouring over a back-issue newspaper on the Internet, leaning forward in all earnestness. His shoulders were hunched, his face mere inches from the screen. He was so intent on what he was reading, he almost missed the almost imperceptible sound of the office door quietly opening. A sound like that of a couple a pieces of paper falling to the ground whispered in the foyer near the door. Immediately Shawn's head came up. He looked in the direction of the front entrance. "Gus?" he called.

No answer.

Shawn's heightened perception was now fully aroused. He stopped what he was doing on the Internet, stood, and walked cautiously toward the front door. On his way, he grabbed an umbrella of Gus's that was leaning by the coat rack to possibly be used as a weapon, if need be.

Slowly, carefully, Shawn made his way to the Psych office foyer. To his surprise, no one was there. Even the door was closed and locked. Shawn turned around in the small space, scanning the area to find what, if anything, was out of place. Yet he found nothing, even with his well-trained eyes. There was nothing missing; everything was as it should be. Shawn was just going to check farther in the building, when, all at once, he spied the thing he had heard fall.

It was indeed a piece of paper, and it was lying on the floor by his feet. He bent down to pick it up, straightened, and began to read:

_"My dear Spencer, it brings me great pleasure to have finally met your acquaintance. I apologize for not appearing in person. But I couldn't have you seeing me beforehand, or that would be cheating. But not to weary yourself further with minor details, I request that you listen to me patiently._

_"I have heard of your esteemed and apparently undying fame with the Santa Barbara Police Department. I have heard that you can 'psychically' read a person or situation and figure out what they plan to do, or what is going to happen in the near future. So, in this letter, I am presenting to you a proposal. _

_I would be greatly honored to have you work for me. I am in need of persons of highly prized abilities such as yourself in order to continue in business. You understand. I do hope that you will seriously consider this grand offer._

_"As for rewards, compensations, and the like, you shall receive one-fifth of all profits that are acquired from said business. This position is a highly coveted prize for those persons who I would request for said position. _

_"To confirm your interest in this offer, I would request that you meet me at the Santa Barbara Post office in the downtown area. A package will be on the ground by the third mailbox out front. Do not attempt to bring any friends with you. I shall hear of it. _

_Sincerely,_

_Lazarus Holmes of the S.B.M."_

Shawn stared at the letter, as if he expected it to disintegrate in his hands. He reread the typed words over and over again, with no further understanding. At long last, the paper fell from his limp fingers, and his eyes stared blankly at the green wall before him. _Sincerely, Lazarus Holmes of the S.B.M.. _What could it mean? Who the heck was Lazarus Holmes? And for that matter, what in the world was the S.B.M.? A business? Some kind of terrorist/spy group? Simply a sick joke someone was playing on him? And why him? Out of all the hundreds of people in Santa Barbara, he had to pick _Shawn Spencer_? The whole thing was very fishy.

Now the smart thing to do now for the average Joe would be to notify the police. But Shawn Spencer was not your average Joe. If he and Gus were in the midst of solving a case, and something didn't sit right with Shawn, he usually didn't bother calling the police until the last minute, and instead opted for seeking the needle in the haystack, for as long and as far as he could, until he, (drawn-out and reluctant), would cry "Uncle" (i.e., go ask his dad for help). And only if it were a real emergency, (and only if Gus suggested it first), would he call Juliet or Lassiter for backup.

So calling the SBPD didn't instantly pop into Shawn's mind (or, at least, he thought it and quickly dismissed it out of his head). Still, a premonition like a silent voice popped into his head (sounding suspiciously like his father), warning him that he should tell someone (anyone!) about this strange letter. Obviously, this Lazarus Holmes had studied him from afar, following his every public move (and possibly some more private ones, as well).

Oh, this was just perfect! After all that he and Gus had already gone through (mainly because of their [really his] foolishness) now this! A stalker! A real live stalker! And not just _any _stalker, no! Someone who, quite obviously (according to the letter), was involved in criminal behavior! Someone who had very skillfully done their homework. Someone who knew his name and occupation. Someone who knew that he frequented the SBPD. Someone who, in short, was a stalker.

At least, they hadn't mentioned Gus or Jules. If they knew this much about him, surely they would have seen one or the other of his friends (as well as more people he knew) with him, and thus associated them with him. But maybe, just maybe, they weren't really interested in them, and instead, rather him. If that were the case, then all he would have to do would be to keep this stranger's interest centered on him, and away from his friends and family.

With that in mind, Shawn took the paper, and folded it, and then walked back over to his desk and hid it in the bottom drawer underneath a bunch of old papers and closed it. _There,_ he thought to himself,_ that should take care of it._

He then recalled the instructions in the letter from memory, and nodded to himself. _Yep, that's what I'll do._

Shawn straightened, and looked about the office, as if committing its current state to memory. Then he went over to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket. Shrugging it on, he made for the door.

Once outside, Shawn went over to where his motorcycle was parked. Sliding onto the seat and putting on his helmet, he revved the engine, backed up, and was off, blazing down the street. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, that he overlooked the pair of eyes watching him, that glinted behind binoculars which showed themselves through the windshield of a silver Mercedes-Benz.

**So, what do you think, so far? P.S. to all you whump-lovers out there: This story is only beginning, and the whump will begin soon enough. But this time, the Best-Whumped Character Award will go to: Gus! I love Shawn whump, probably best of all the characters, but eventually I feel the need for other characters to get noticed and picked on. So I chose Gus. (Don't worry: Shawn and Juliet, perhaps other characters too, will get whumped to a little later.) And how will Gus react to this? (Cue cry of, "Shawn!"). Well, anyway, you can only just read and review (please do, and let me know if this story interests you, or if I bore you to sleep), so that I know if I should keep going with this story. Thanks very much!**


	2. The Disappearing Act

**Well, thanks for all the wonderful reviews and comments! I'm glad you all like it so far! (P.S.: In the last chapter, I mentioned Gus was watching _The Goonies_ on Hulu. I have absolutely no idea if that movie is even on there. It worked for the story, as it was an 80's reference.)**

Shawn screeched to a stop in front of the Santa Barbara Post Office, and parked his bike in a spot off to the side, near some palm trees. He was acutely aware of the sudden silence created by the engine puttering to nothing. He could hear birds singing in the treetops above his head. The quiet was somehow unnerving. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because it was mid-afternoon, and traffic should have been a little busier at that time of day. Maybe it was because that although there were a few cars out front, no one seemed to be coming or going from the building. Whatever the reason, Shawn was more than a little uncomfortable being here alone, without Gus.

Slowly, he got off his bike, and removed his helmet. Cautiously, looking around him every few seconds, he made his way over toward the mailboxes out front.

There it was! A small cardboard box was sitting on the ground below the third mailbox. Shawn nervously stepped over to it, and knelt down in front of it. His hands trembled as they reached for the box.


End file.
